


Through An Artist’s Eyes

by aelinofwildfire



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist AU, Artist Lance (Voltron), Character Study, Ghost Keith (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Kissing, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Poor Keith, Slow Burn, ghost au, kind of, red had a lot to do with it, shiro gets emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:36:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelinofwildfire/pseuds/aelinofwildfire
Summary: Lance and Hunk move into Shiro’s old home. Lance didn’t know what to expect.





	Through An Artist’s Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first Klance fic, so I hope you like it! I apologize if it’s all over the place. Thank you so much for reading :)

Lance inhales the smell of his new home after unpacking most of his boxes with Shiro's help. Hunk already moved in and unpacked his stuff and went to work a few hours before. He finally had a room and even another room where as his own...the extra room being his art studio.

I bet you're asking, _why are two broke college kids moving into a two-story home?_ Well, Takashi Shirogane, Shiro for short, lent them this house and is helping pay (only a little bit) for it after moving into his girlfriend's home with her uncle.

Shiro walked around Lance's art room while Lance was laying out his painted canvases to hang up later. "Lance, I knew you were an artist, but I didn't know you were _this_ good!" He stroked his non-metal hand down one of them.

Lance flushed a bit. "Thanks, Shiro!" the brunet tapped his fingers against a can of blue paint. "I've been wondering...who were you living with before? I thought you've been living on your own until Allura asked you to live with her."

Shiro lowered his hand from the painting. "Well, I used to live here with my brother and my parents. They...passed." Lance knew that his parents had died, but he didn't know that Shiro had a brother. He never talked about him.

"What was your brother's name?" Lance asked softly.

"Keith." Shiro didn't speak after that. He just opened the blinds to all the windows, as if he wanted to keep the darkness away.

Lance didn't ask any further questions.

"Welp, I think that's all of it," Shiro continued. "I better get going. Allura's Uncle Coran is making dinner for us tonight."

"Sounds good!" Lance escorted Shiro out the door and sighed dramatically. Lance had met Shiro about a year ago at the gym and Lance had the tiniest of crushes on him...but the guy turned out to be a brother/father figure to him and his friends and he wouldn't be more grateful for that. Shiro introduced Allura one time to him and his friends and she became a part of the friend group immediately, like Hunk's girlfriend, Shay. Pidge and Matt, along with Hunk, were the biggest nerds but the best of friends that Lance could ask for.

It was getting a little bit chilly in the house so he untied his olive-green jacket around his waist then put it on. He went to the large kitchen to grab a little snack.

When he saw the kitchen, it looked amazing. There were so much cooking and baking supplies...

Lance searched through the pantry and grabbed a little bag or Doritos and explored the house. Then that's when Pidge called him.

" _Yo, loser, we're all gonna grab some dinner, you up for it?_ "

Lance chomped on his chips loudly so Pidge would hear it...oh, how she loathed it when he did that. "Yeah, nerd, pick me up?"

" _Sure. Also, stop chomping or else I'll make sure you die slowly._ " Then she hung up.

Lance put his unfinished bag of Doritos back in the pantry. "Goodbye, my sweet. I'll see you later."

Lance, Hunk, Shiro, Pidge, Shay, and Allura had a nice dinner at IHOP that night.

When he and Hunk got back home, they took showers in their separate bathrooms and went to bed. But before Lance's head could hit the pillow, his mom called.

" _Mamá?_ " He answered.

" _Mi hijo_ , how is your new home?"

"It's _enorme!_ " He answered, getting out of bed and emphasizing the word with his free arm. He walked around the room and looked out the window into the backyard. "It's even got a pool! But we'll need to get more money in order to swim in it, though. _¿Cómo fue tu noche?_ "

They spoke for almost a half hour, and his mom wished him sweet dreams.

But his dreams last night weren't sweet at all.

In the dream, Lance felt aware, but he couldn't control his actions. He was in the eyes of someone shorter than himself—he could tell the difference.

He— _the other person_ —was walking outside of the college...Lance's college. He was walking to the parking lot and stopped near a red motorcycle...the guy's motorcycle. But it was busted in many places and was graffitied. One of the words wrote, _fag_.

 _My bike...!_ His host rushed over to his bike, his gloved hand caressing it. Who would destroy some random guy's motorbike for no reason? By the look of it, being a _fag_ was the most stupid reasons of all. Why would that drive someone to destroy another's prized possession? Lance felt different waves of emotion crash into him. _Horror, surprise, anger and hatred, sadness, distress, humiliation._

Then he heard voices behind him. Lance—no, his host—fell to his knees.

"Ha, the gay emo guy has finally been defeated!" One of them crooned.

Before Lance knew it, his host started up and threw punches at these three guys. It all went by in a flash of pained grunts and fast movements—the first guy his host went at lost a tooth after three punches, his host almost broke the other guy's arm, and the last one ran in fear.

The first guy was the only one on the ground...the second ran away after his host was finished with him.

His host looked at his hands—his pale, bloody hands—and took his ruined bike by the handles and steered it down the street, to a neighborhood that Lance recognized. Lance's neighborhood.

His host continued down the road, getting awfully close to Lance's house...and eventually walked up the driveway and parked his mangled bike in the garage. Lance recognized Shiro's car in there as well... Then he walked inside.

Oh. _Oh_.

Did Shiro know this guy? What the heck?

"Shiro?" He heard his host's voice rasp. "Are you home?"

A cat mewed by his feet, but his host did not pet her. "Not now, Red..."

So no one was home.

All his host felt was sadness and pain. So much pain...not just physical.

He didn't look at all of the pictures on the wall in the hallway. He didn't caress the railing when he walked ever so slowly up the stairs. His mind was all mush—his host was not thinking at all.

His host went into the bathroom and pulled out his knife from his belt, _why did he have a knife in his belt??_

His host did not look at himself in the mirror once as he rested the knife on his wrist.

Then Lance woke up.

He felt like he didn't sleep at all that night.

He reluctantly picked up his phone to see what time it was...it was 6 in the morning. _Better get up_ , Lance told himself.

He put his shoes on and went outside to take a walk around the neighborhood to clear his mind.

So, that guy knew Shiro and lived with him. Could it be a roommate or that brother Shiro mentions but never actually talks about? And...Lance had a strong feeling that he had killed himself.

But why would he dream about it?

Before he could think more about it, a cat rubbed against his shins. Lance stopped in his tracks and felt joy warm his heart instead of dread. "Hey, girl, what are you doing out?" The cat seemed friendly. She had the reddest fur he'd ever seen. "And what's your name?" Lance checked the collar for a name or something, but the tag where a name and address would usually be was gone. "Hm. Let's take you home."

He picked her up and brushed out the tangles in her fur and went back to the house.

Lance released a breath as he closed the door. He shivered. Was it this cold here when he left earlier? _Jeez_.

The red cat in his arms started to purr loudly. _I didn't even do anything...?_ Lance shrugged. Maybe the cat was happy it was inside. He would put her in her room for now and warm her up. It was cold outside; who knew how long she'd been out there?

Lance felt eyes on him. "Hunk?" Hunk wouldn't answer. He looked around, but there was no one near. "This joke isn't funny, Hunk," Lance said loudly so his friend could hear.

He went to the stairs and stepped up them. About half-way up the stairs, he heard and _felt_ someone vigorously running up the stairs behind him. The cat lets out a startled noise. Lance could only feel horror at this moment—then Lance sprinted up the stairs, ran down the hall, opened then closed his door behind him, and got under his sheets, and cuddled the cat to his chest.

He heard footsteps outside his door. Lance couldn't think—fear was swarming his mind. The doorknob turned, and—"Dude, are you okay?" Hunk. _Thank God!_

Lance nearly cried at the sight of him. "Hunk, thank God, I came home and I was being chased up the stairs, and it was so scary, I can't—"

"Why do you have a cat?"

Lance suddenly remembered the cat in his arms. She was looking at Hunk suspiciously. "I found her outside," he told his best friend. "We should get her checked later."

Hunk crossed his arms. "We should get you checked later. No one was chasing you up the stairs." Lance was about to protest, but Hunk said, "Since we're both wide awake now, thank you, by the way, we should probably get her some cat stuff. Go warm the car while I call for an appointment."

Lance agreed and never let go of the cat. Who—or what—was chasing them up the stairs and why?

He sighed heavily and grabbed a small blanket and wrapped the dark red cat up with it. He sprinted back down the stairs, afraid that someone's going to chase them again. But no one. _Ha, maybe it was just no one._

He started up the car, went to the passenger's seat, then put the cat on the console box. He smiled and scratched her chin.

Lance jumped when the door suddenly opened. _Great, now I'm easily spooked!_

Hunk chuckled as he got into the driver's seat. "So the appointment at the vet is in a couple of hours, so we'll get the cat stuff now." Lance sighed and took the cat in his arms, giving extra attention to her. "You know man," Hunk said. "If you're really hooked on that ghost that was following you, Pidge has the equipment."

Lance straightened. "Really?" He smiled wide. "Ha, this is really creepy but I'm happy I'll be able to get answers." He turned back to the cat and played with her little arms happily.

After getting the cat stuff and taking the cat to the vet, who was thankfully healthy, they had lunch at the house with Pidge, who brought her stuff.

After lunch, much to Lance's disappointment because he was getting antsy about having to deal with the ghost at all now, Pidge set up her stuff. Before she went out the door, she said, "I'll be back tomorrow to collect the stuff and analyze it. Okay, bye!" Then she shut the door before Lance could squawk at her.

Hunk put a hand on his back. "Alright, buddy, I'm out for a date with Shay. Don't die. I love you!" Then he ran out the door. Leaving Lance with the ghost. Alone.

Lance sighed as he picked up the cat, who was rubbing her head against his legs. "Guess it's you, me, and the ghost." He kissed her tiny head and headed to the living room, where the cameras and recorders were. He made sure to grab a couple of Hunk's cookies off the table to make him feel better.

He rested the cat in his lap and took a deep breath. He needed to ask this spirit questions—that's what Pidge said to do so it could talk. He brushed his long fingers through her fur to calm himself down.

He can't stop feeling watched. Their eyes were on him. He could feel it. Lance was aware of every hair on his body.

Here goes nothing.

"S-so, uhh...my name is Lance." He paused. "What's your name?" He said unsurely. "How...how old are you? When did you die? Did you use to live here?"

What if this was the guy in his dream?

Lance squeaked, "Can you show me a sign that you're here with me?" The cat in his lap was still as if she was listening. _Creepy_. He tapped his fingers against his legs, anxious and afraid.

The end table in front of him moved one inch. Two inches. Three. Then it stopped.

Lance was unnaturally still.

Then he screamed and ran up the stairs with the cat to his room again.

He paced his room for a few seconds then took out his sketchbook and drew his new cat to get his mind off all of this.

When Hunk got home he ran into his arms. " _Hunk the table moved the table moved what do I do what do I—_ "

"Uhh, we take the stuff to Pidge, I guess. And maybe you were moving the table and you just didn't realize it?"

Lance made a noise. "Hunk, get the cameras and stuff from the living room, I'm scared."

Hunk groaned and did so. "I'm gonna drive these to Pidge's. Bye again!" Then he left.

Then Lance was alone. Again. With the cat and the ghost.

Lance groaned dramatically. "Alright, here, kitty kitty! Where are you?" Lance called. He walked to the hallway and saw the cat...purring? Lance wasn't even with her?

"Aw, what are you doing out here alone? The mean ghost might get you." He picked her up and glared at the air, hoping the ghost would get his message. He felt the eyes but he wanted to protect this little cat.

"Do you want to go take a walk to the park?" He asked her, knowing that she's not an outdoor cat. But he really wanted to get out of the house right now.

So they went out. Lance took the messenger bag of his sketchbooks and pencils and walked to the park for a while in the cold.

The next day, Lance was chilling out in the living room, drawing till his heart's content. He was doing a study of their new front yard. There were flower boxes on the window outside and Lance knew Hunk couldn't wait to grow some colorful vegetation out there.

The front door opened.

Lance jumped to his feet from the couch, his art stuff falling to the floor. " _What the hell?!_ "

Pidge was there with her computer, wearing a smug ass grin. She held up two bobby pins between her fingers. "I knew you two wouldn't get up, so I went to high measures. Turns out I didn't need to anyway." She closed the door and sat on the couch like she owned the place.

Lance sighed and flopped onto the spot next to her. "Alright, show me what you've got."

Pidge laughed nervously. "Well...it turns out you do have a ghost," Lance felt like throwing up. "And...you should probably check this out."

Lance's heartbeat started to pick up faster when she opened the lid, clicked on a file, and started the recording with the thermal camera next to it, both set at the same time.

Lance couldn't breathe when he saw a purple humanoid figure moving by the end table and then sat on it. Lance knew it wasn't himself because Lance was sitting on the floor next to the table and he was at normal body temp.

" _S-so, uhh...my name is Lance_."

" _Hi, Lance_ ," came the barely indistinguishable voice.

Lance gasped really loud and the cat jumped onto the spot on the couch next to him. Lance picked her up and squeezed her in his arms.

" _What's your name?_ "

" _Keith_." The cat started to purr at the man's voice. He sounded young, like Lance's age.

Lance poked Pidge's arm. "P-Pidge, is this the same Keith that was Shiro's—"

"Shh!" Pidge shushed.

" _How...how old are you?_ "

" _Eighteen_." Shiro's Keith was eighteen, Lance knew.

" _When did you die?_ "

The ghost— _Keith_ —was silent for a second. " _Last year._ " Lance had to listen extra carefully to hear that whisper.

" _Did you used to live here?_ "

" _Yeah. With Shiro and our parents. Also, you have my cat._ "

Lance's heart stopped. So this really _was him_ —and this was his cat...! Lance looked down at the cat in his lap for a second.

Then he heard himself ask his last question and the figure on the table got up. He stood right next to Lance, how did he not notice then?! Then he moved the table.

"Here comes my favorite part," Pidge said, pointing to the screen and grinning.

Lance, in the recordings, screamed, stood up, ran out of the room, and he could hear himself scream for the next 30 seconds. He felt his cheeks redden. "Whatever," he said, bringing the cat close to his chest.

 _Red_. In the dream! The cat's name was Red! Lance remembered. Lance brought the cat in front of his face. "Hi, Red." Red pawed at his nose and purred again.

"Okay, okay, so let me get this straight," Lance said, his eyes wide as he looked at Pidge. "So _Keith_ , Shiro's brother, died last year and he would be nineteen right now. And he used to live here. With this cat. Who is named Red."

Pidge nodded slowly. Then she blinked. "Wait, I don't recall her name being said—"

"I had a dream about—him." Lance pointed to the camera. The room got cold. He shivered but he went on, "I had a dream about Keith's...death." Pidge's brown eyes shot wide.

" _Seriously?_ "

Lance nodded.

Pidge looked around the room as if she could sense Keith's presence too. Then the took her computer and patted his back. "Welp, good luck. Tell Hunk I love him." Then she went out. Why are his friends always leaving him like that all the time now?

He heard the door close behind her and he collapsed against the couch, holding Red up in the air above his face. "Well, I guess it's just you, me, and Keith for now. As always." Hunk was out today with Shay—again.

"Why are you holding her like that? She doesn't like to get held like that."

Lance yelped and sat up, knocking over a few pillows.

He saw a person standing in the corner of the living room.

It was Keith.

In the flesh. Crossing his pale arms and leaning against the painted yellow wall. He had long, dark hair and he was a little bit shorter than Lance.

And Lance could see and hear him.

Lance screamed and pointed at him. "AAAAAGGHH!" He picked up a pillow to shield himself and Red against the ghost. He picked up another pillow and threw it at Keith and it _landed on Keith's chest and bounced back off_ as if he was real.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Keith waves his hands out. "Wait...you—you can _see me?_ "

" _Qué mierda,_ yes, and _I'm terrified,_ go away!" Lance backs toward the wall where the front door is.

Red squirmed in Lance's hands and he had no choice but to put her down. To his surprise, she ran right to the ghost in his house...and he picked her up. Just like that. Keith the ghost can pick up things! Lance's mind was going in circles and he didn't know what to do.

Keith put out his free arm. Lance flinched against the wall. "I'm not going to hurt you," Keith said as if he was talking to a baby, to which Lance certainly was not a baby.

Lance takes a deep breath. Then again. "You promise? You're not, like, evil, are you?" _What the fuck, he's talking to a_ ghost. Shiro's brother, too! Shiro's _dead_ brother!

Keith squawked. "What? No!"

"Why were you chasing me up the stairs earlier, hm?!"

"I—you had my _cat_ , I was surprised! I haven't seen her since I _died_ ," Lance could tell the words didn't feel familiar on his tongue, "and I didn't want some random guy messing with her!"

Lance argued, "Hey, I'm not some 'random guy'! Shiro's my best friend, he's your brother, so we're like, basically related. Wow, I'm related to the ghost in my own _home_." Lance was convinced that Keith wouldn't hurt him, so he sat back on the couch. He was still too bothered to pick up his stuff, though.

"I don't even know you," Keith scoffed. "I know you've only known my brother for like, a little more than a year. I hear him talking about you sometimes." He hid his hands behind his back.

Lance blew a raspberry, now comfortable, and picked up his art stuff and put it on the table.

"I've seen your drawings before. They're...they're really good," Keith said, changing the mood.

"Oh, have you been looking over my shoulder without my knowing all the time?" Lance said dryly, eyeing Red sitting on Keith's own shoulder. To anyone else walking in, they would see a cat just chilling in the air.

Keith shrugged and walked to the couch but didn't sit. Lance stiffened as he got closer to him. The room didn't feel very cold anymore.

"Yeah, sometimes," Keith answered. Before Lance could protest, Keith also said, "I also saw your art room. The day you and...my brother was putting up stuff in there." Keith put Red back in his arms and sat on the couch. He fiddled with his hands a bit.

"Have you...been able to talk to him? Shiro?"

Keith didn't look at Lance. "No. I haven't been able to speak with anyone else he used to bring in, until you. Which talking to you right now is weird. Sometimes I'm just too scared to try and communicate with Shiro. Afraid I'll scare him and that he'll never come back."

"And now he moved in with Allura..." Lance chewed on his bottom lip. "At least it's me that moved in," he said hopefully. "I'll bring him over sometimes anyway, so..."

Keith grunted appreciatively. "Thanks." He finally looked at Lance in the eyes. Keith's eyes were a dark, gray-blue.

Then Keith let Red back down onto the couch and disappeared. Lance shivered as the spot grew cold and he could feel Keith's eyes again—then it got warmer and the feeling was gone.

Lance felt drained. He picked up Red and took her back to his room for a little nap.

Two days have passed. Whenever there was no one at the house, Keith and Lance would talk to each other and ask questions. On the third day, Shiro called him, asking how he was doing while Lance and Keith were talking.

Keith stiffened beside him. Lance shrugged and picked up the phone.

"Hey, Shiro," he said, absentmindedly petting Red.

" _Everything going okay?_ "

Lance slid his eyes to Keith. "Yeah, everything's _asombroso!_ I got everything out of the boxes now, finally." Thanks to Keith's help.

Shiro balked. " _You got all of those boxes unpacked in just a few days?_ "

Lance laughed nervously, sliding his eyes to Keith, who was unnaturally still. "Y-yeah, I had Hunk's help. Yeah."

Keith made the move to get up and disappear again, but Lance grabbed his pale arm for him to stay there.

" _Well, I'm glad you're both settling in well. Have a good night, Lance!_ "

"You too, Shiro!" Then Lance hung up.

"Lance..." Keith said, voice wavering.

"What?" Lance asked. But then he noticed it.

Lance's hand was latched onto Keith's arm. Keith was solid. He could touch him.

Lance smiled and before he knew it, Keith was hugging him. _Keith is hugging me, Keith is hugging me, why and how is he hugging me?_ Lance put his arms around Keith's back nonetheless.

"Lance, I'm touching you, you're touching me!" Keith laughed into Lance's neck and he blushed.

"Y-yeah," Lance said. "Are you really this touch-starved?" Lance chuckled nervously.

The man immediately got out of the hug. "W-well, yeah, I'm sort of a ghost, so—" He scratched the back of his head and shrugged.

The awkwardness in the air was so thick that Lance couldn't breathe.

"Do you want to show me the secrets of this house?"

"Sure."

Keith took Lance's hand, _oh my God, we're holding hands,_ Lance blushed again. Keith's hand was so surprisingly warm against his...like as if he was alive too.

The next day, the two were exploring the attic. It was locked, but Keith could slip through walls and he unlocked it from the inside.

"Wow," Keith said as he helped Lance in. "Shiro left to much crap in here."

"Cool!" Lance cheered. "Time to find some Shiro secrets!"

Keith shot back Lance's smirk and began digging.

They found nothing good, really, until he heard Keith gasp somewhere in the back.

"Keith, buddy? What'd you find?" But Keith wouldn't answer. Lance's joints groaned as he stood back up and walked to where Keith was. He was hunched over a box.

Keith was holding a red jacket in his hands. "This—used to be mine."

Lance went closer to him. He kneeled down beside him and looked through the contents of the box. Then he saw a photo album that read, _Shirogane and Kogane Family_. Why did it say ' _Kogane_ ' on there?

"That's my last name," Keith said. Lance didn't know he spoke out loud. "I was adopted by the Shiroganes until..." he sighed. "You probably know what happened."

Lance made a small agreeing noise and opened the album.

Younger pictures of Shiro and Keith together met his stare.

The first picture of the two had Shiro, probably 8 or 9, holding Keith, 4 or 5, in his lap. Keith's hair was shorter than it was now. The caption said, _So happy to have adopted our new son, Keith Kogane!_ So Keith was an orphan.

Lance turned his head to check if Keith was looking at the album too, but the man was still looking at his jacket. Finally, he sighed, pulling his hair up and _Oh Dios mío, did the air suddenly go up 100°?_ Lance tore his eyes away from Keith's neck and saw what he was doing—he was tying the jacket around his slim waist. It complimented his black shirt well.

Keith looked into the box again and took out a pair of gloves. He just—stared at them. It was too dark to see any detail on them. But then Lance saw that Keith was crying.

"Keith, are you...are you alright?" Lance took one Keith's hands and held it.

Keith squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, I just—I took these off right before I died. I don't know, it's so weird looking at my jacket and gloves...finding them today was like finding a piece of myself that I lost."

Lance's free hand tapped against the wood floor. "Keith, I...on the first night I spent here, I had a dream about you."

Keith's eyes snapped up. "How could you dream of me if you didn't know me?"

Lance shrugged. "I-I don't know...I think it was how you died."

Keith self-consciously hid his free hand behind his back. Lance noticed and brought the one that he held in his hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Keith...the first time I started to like you was when we first had a conversation. Like, the first time you visited me and we started talking."

Keith turned red and brushed a stray hair behind his ear. _Red suits him_.

"Lance I...I like you too."

"Can I kiss you?"

Keith looked away for a second unsurely, before nodding a little bit. Lance grinned and brushed their lips together delicately. Keith used the hand that was behind his back slide to Lance's cheek. The kiss lasted for only a few seconds. It was the warmest Lance has ever felt in forever. He met Keith's gaze—they were purple. Did they randomly change colors? "You're pretty," Lance said before he could stop himself. He covered his mouth and coughed into his arm.

Keith's face turned red again and he put his hands on either side of Lance's face. "I think you're beautiful," he whispered before kissing him, more passionately this time. They changed the angle of their faces and Lance moaned appreciatively. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's waist and the dark-haired boy wrapped his around Lance's neck, trying to get closer. Lance spread his long legs so Keith could settle between them. Closer—that's what Lance wanted.

He brushed his tongue softly against Keith's bottom lip. The ghost shivered and opened for him. _I really, really like Keith,_ Lance thought.

"Hey, bud? You up here? I heard talking."

Lance and Keith jumped apart to the sound of Hunk climbing up into the attic. He whispered an apology to Keith and stood up. "Y-yeah, man, it's me." He totally forgot that Hunk was home.

Hunk poked his head in. "Hm. I never knew we had an attic. Who knew Shiro left so much stuff here?"

Lance shrugged and turned to see if Keith was still there—no, he disappeared, his gloves gone.

"Are you gonna go back downstairs? I made dinner!"

"Anything for your cooking!"

That night, Keith and Lance sat together in his room, just staring at each other.

Then Lance felt a tickling sensation in his nose.

 _Oh no_ —then he sneezed. He just ruined the perfect moment!

Keith yelped and fell off the bed and Lance doubled over laughing. "Oh my God, babe, I'm so sorry!"

" _Babe?!_ " Keith squeaked.

Lance smirked. "You gotta problem, _babe?_ " Lance hauled Keith back onto the bed and laid Keith beside him. "Can I...can I draw you?" Lance asked, blushing. He looked away. _That sounded creepy, of course he wouldn't—_

"U-uh, sure." Keith was now sitting criss-cross, looking to the side and face red. Today has been full of red faces!

Lance beamed and grabbed his sketchbook, a couple of charcoal pencils and colored ones. " _Yes!_ " Lance cheered. He kissed Keith's cheek and began to draw.

Half an hour later or so of random conversing, Lance was finally done. He showed it to Keith, who just let his mouth drop wide open. "Oh, wow," he gasped.

Lance chuckled nervously. "So...you like it?"

"Well, of _course_ I like it!"

The drawing was of Keith sitting in a field of red roses. He had his eyes open and looking down into his lap, where Red was looking up at him.

Keith leaned against Lance. "Lance, just so you know...being with you is literally the happiest I've ever been."

Lance drawing Keith had been a thing for the past couple of weeks now. Even when Keith doesn't notice, Lance is drawing him.

One night, Lance and Hunk invited Shiro for dinner for the first time since moving out. Shiro looked like he saw a ghost when he saw Red weaving through his legs.

Shiro had been very interested in Lance's art since Lance showed him the art room. Lance smiled when Shiro asked Lance to show him a couple of drawings. He gave him his sketchbook.

Shiro flipped through. Then flipped through some more.

He almost dropped the sketchbook when he saw the drawings of Keith.

"Lance...is this..." Shiro sounded like he was about to cry. His hand stroked a certain drawing of his brother—one that portrayed Keith beaming. Being happy. Lance knew that Keith didn't have a happy life.

Shiro picked up Red and hugged Lance with his other hand.

Lance lifted his head to see Keith in the doorway, smiling and crying silently too.


End file.
